Umhlonhlo, it will be remembered, was the Pondomise chief who rebelled in 1880, treacherously murdered Mr. Hope, the magistrate of Qumbu, and his two companions, and who has since been an outlaw with a price on his head.

Langley replied to the effect that it was quite true such a reward had been offered as to Umhlonhlo’s whereabouts, but that the government believed him to be in Pondoland; that he was sure to be captured eventually; that he, Langley, only wished he knew where Umhlonhlo was, so as to have the chance of making five hundred pounds with which to buy a certain nice little farm he knew of; and that should he ever succeed in obtaining the reward, and consequently in taking his discharge and purchasing the farm, he would be jolly glad if old Ghamba would come and live with him.  This is only some of what he said; when Langley’s tongue got into motion, he seemed to have some difficulty in stopping it.

However, he paused at last, and then Ghamba, looking very intently at him, said: 

“Look here, can you keep a secret?”

Here was a mystery.

“Rather!” said Langley.

“Will you swear by the name of God that you will not reveal what I have to tell you?”

Langley swore.

Ghamba drew near until his teeth were within a few inches of Langley’s cheek, and said in a whisper: 

“I know where Umhlonhlo is.”

Langley started, and said in an awed voice: 

“Where is he?”

“Wait a bit,” said Ghamba; “perhaps I will tell you, and perhaps I won’t.  I like you; you have given me tobacco, and you are not too proud to come and talk to a poor old man.  Now, you say you would like to make five hundred pounds and buy a farm?”

“Rather!”

“And that you would let me go and live on the farm with you and end my days in peace?”

“I would, gladly.”

“Well then, if I take you to where Umhlonhlo is, and you will kill him and get the money, will you give me twenty-five pounds, and let me keep a few goats, and grow a few mealies on your land?”

“I should think I would.  But how could one man take or kill Umhlonhlo?  They say he is well armed and that he has a lot of followers with him.”

“Umhlonhlo,” said Ghamba, glancing anxiously round as if he feared the very ant-heaps were listening, “is hiding in a cave in the mountain, not three days’ walk from here.  He has not got a single man with him, because he fears being given up.  He is really in hiding from his own followers now.  My sister is one of his wives, and that is how I know all about it.  I passed the cave where he lives four nights ago, and saw him sitting by the fire.  He has only a few women with him.”

“And how do you think I should take him?”

“Take him? you should kill him.  I will guide you to the cave by night, and then you can shoot him as he sits by the fire.”

Langley, although no coward, was not particularly brave.  He did not much relish the idea of alone tackling the redoubtable Umhlonhlo, a savage of muscle, who was reported to be always armed to the teeth.  Moreover, he had no gun, and was but an indifferent shot with a revolver.  So he thought over the matter for a few moments and then said: